


solid diamond dust

by djxrxn



Category: Wonder Woman (Movies - Jenkins)
Genre: Alcohol, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Daddy Kink, Established Relationship, F/M, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Spit Kink, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-18 17:55:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djxrxn/pseuds/djxrxn
Summary: Your relationship with Maxwell Lord is complicated, especially when your feelings are always evolving.
Relationships: Maxwell Lord/Reader, Maxwell Lord/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 22





	solid diamond dust

**Author's Note:**

> this is a series now lol - i dont know when the next part will come out, a have a few other fics to get out first, but i have a lot of plans for this series ah!! you can see everything im up to on tumblr first (@djxrxn). enjoy the first part!!

You didn’t do this often - walking into Maxwell Lord’s office unannounced usually did not result in what you desired, but today you were feeling…

Nervous. You should have felt the dangerous concoction of a naive need to see your lover and the braveness required for entering a man’s office and throwing out demands like you ran the company - you just couldn’t bring yourself to feel that strong though. 

That didn’t stop you from marching up to the top floor of the Lord Industry building. It was a little bit later than five o’clock, the last of the employees flooding into the lobby with their keys in hand. Everyone was so eager to leave, ready to relax at home for a few hours until the day started again. You wondered if they felt as anxious as you did as you approached Maxwell’s office when they had a request.

Maxwell gave you the day off. He said you hadn’t had a proper day off in some time - you were always faxing in paperwork to the office on Saturdays, or making phone calls to investors on Sunday morning instead of relaxing in bed. He said you deserved it. You appreciated that, and you were glad to sleep in, but you missed Max.

Well- missed wasn’t the word that fit best. You knew you would bump into him eventually, either at the offices the next day or later that night when he returned home. You… you yearned for Lord’s touch, for the way his hand curled around your throat when he was deep inside of you, for the way he snarled your name when he came - 

You saw him in his office through the almost-shut door, and your heart raced. He was flipping through a document, circling things he needed more information on before telling his head logistics man that the numbers were _very_ off this quarter. 

Max looked up when he heard a knock on his door. He hadn’t anticipated any more meetings or was expecting any other visitors, especially after five-

Oh. It was you. A soft smile appeared on his face as you pushed open the door, asking him if he had time for you. 

“There’s all the time in the world,” he answered as he stood, and you tried not to cringe at the polished tone he was using with you. “Especially for daddy’s sweet diamond.”

You stifled a gasp at the nickname, an ache flickering up between your hips and to the front of your concerns that had been just below the surface all day. Now was your opportunity - you closed the door behind you as you strolled into Maxwell Lord’s office.

Lord shuffled a few papers around, shoved a few notes to the side, closed a thick book - you swallowed as he cleared off his desk. A twinge of shame crept up through your heart as you thought about how you could have done this differently. You could have phoned his office from the penthouse that he had set you up in. That would have saved you the trouble of fishing around a closet for a skirt that was too short for your nine-to-five. You could have found out Max was too busy for you at home, instead of wobbling around the office in a pair of heels. It would be embarrassing for him to reject you here. At least over the phone meant you didn’t have to look him in the eyes as he denied you. 

You were about to admit defeat and leave before Lord could even begin to shoo you away. Then he flashed you a grin as he looked up, eyes raking over every inch you. “Did you dress up for me?”

“I did,” you nodded. 

“On your day off?” He added, moving around the desk to finally be faced to face with you. Your face felt hot as his hands tugged your hips to be flush with his, your skin separated from his by only a few layers of thin fabric. 

“Anything for you.” You couldn’t speak above something hurried and hushed, like merely speaking too much or too slowly would lose Max’s attention. 

He hummed as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I assume… you came here for something,” he said. 

You gave a small, “Oh,” and you cleared your throat. “I- I wouldn’t have come if I knew you were so busy…”

“I’m _always_ busy,” he reminded you. “You know that better than anyone - right?”

“Of course,” you answered. You were his secretary. You had seen the meeting schedule and financial affidavits yourself - business was skyrocketing and Lord was the mastermind behind it all. He had to put in the work, needed to be at every meeting he could be, was required to put in time to prepare for the days ahead. “I, um…”

It was hard to tell if your lover was being difficult on purpose or not. You would normally assume that Max was in fact very busy. But here was just something in the way his eyes twinkled too bright and the way he was beaming without his mouth moving into a full smile. You let out a sigh that you thought would be too small for Max to catch. 

“What’s wrong?” He probed, his fingers moving to hold your chin between his thumb and his forefinger. Maxwell had a few ideas of what could be the matter, but he wasn’t sure which one. He assumed you just missed him, wanted to bask in his attention, but that was too simple based on how you were acting. You were walking on thin ice that you had created yourself - when had Max ever denied you something you wanted?

Your eyes fluttered as you looked away, breaking his grip on you - Jesus, you were always under scrutiny with Maxwell Lord. Every small action had to be analyzed and addressed, problems that could be left alone to fade away always had to be ripped to the surface. You mumbled, “Nothing.”

“Oh, no no,” Lord gave you a coy smile — how many times had you seen that smile used against some clueless intern who was about to learn a terrible lesson about Mr. Lord’s tendencies as a boss. You knew what that smile meant. Maxwell Lord already knew what was wrong, already knew what had been bothering you all day, he just wanted the satisfaction of hearing it from your own mouth. “Answer me.”

The tears that formed in your eyes stung, your cheeks burning hotter than the fire of your core. You didn’t understand why it had to be so humiliating for you - getting on your hands and knees and allowing him to do whatever he wanted to your cunt should have been enough, you wanted it to be enough. But Lord was greedy, always wanting more than given to him. 

You couldn’t speak past the lump in your throat, so you shook your head as a tear rolled over your cheek. 

Maxwell let out a displeased hum as he wiped it away with a single stroke of his thumb. “What has Daddy’s little diamond so upset?” He said, the hint of a mocking pout hanging onto his words. Your bottom lip trembled, but you couldn’t look at him. Not even when he leaned in close enough for his lips to be a breath away, not even as his nose brushed up against yours. You almost felt his mouth moving against yours when spoke again. 

“What do you wish for?” He asked. Lord trailed his thumb over your quivering lips - he liked to entertain your desires, to leave you wanting for nothing. He enjoyed providing your greatest wishes before you could even open your mouth to voice them, but there was something so beautiful in the way you asked, in the way you begged for what you wanted. Maxwell wanted to hear it from you, then he would give whatever you wanted, no questions asked. “More than anything in the world… Whatever it is, I’ll grant it.”

You pressed a kiss against his thumb, and Maxwell’s eyes lit up, his victory clear in front of him as you caved to your growing arousal. You wanted his affection and kindness and -

Maybe it was taking too many steps too far to say his love, but Jesus, would it kill him to be a little nice to you? To pretend like he likes you a little bit?

“I…”

Lord nodded, his dark eyes gazing into yours, beckoning you to lay down your guards and give into him. He would grant your wishes, he would do whatever you asked of him, but you were fearful of his price. 

“I want you to fuck me,” you started. 

“Your wish is my command- no, my pleasure,” he smirked, a loud, “muah” leaving his mouth as he pressed a small kiss to your nose. Max had to admit, that had been _easy_. His hands left your cheeks to grab at the hem of your skirt, yanking up-

“Wait, wait, I’m not done,” you huffed. Maxwell raised an eyebrow at you, pausing his movements, but he also didn’t tug your skirt back into place. 

“When you fuck me,” you continued, your voice cracking and trembling as you tried to phrase this carefully. You didn’t own Max, fucking hell, no one did. Maxwell Lord owns himself, does what he wants, takes what he wants. You had wormed your way under his desk and in his luxurious bed, but you were one of what you assumed were a plethora of secretaries who’s footsteps you followed. You were expendable, and if you stepped on Lord’s Italian-leather clad toes too much, he could cast you aside and find someone else to get him off. It was your fault that you caught feelings for your boss, and it would be your fault if you fuck it all up with emotions. 

“When you fuck me, I…” You blinked back more tears. You could do this, you deserve this. You were an exemplary employee for Lord Industries, and you were a stellar secretary for Mr. Lord. Meetings were never confused and screwed up, and paperwork was filed correctly almost immediately after it was handed to you. You deserved for the guy you were fucking to treat you will a little bit of respect. 

But you didn’t want to lose… well, all of it. There was the power - every black tie event, every important investor meeting, even in the break room on your floor, no one dared to even breath in your direction. Everyone knew that you were an extension of Maxwell Lord, and that he would have anyone’s job if they crossed you. 

That was so much better than every other job you had ever had. 

And as much as you’d like to think that you didn’t care about money, Lord had so much of it. You would miss the rooms filled with flowers after a day where he was too snippy at you, and you would miss the iconic and wealthy brands that replaced your clothes in your closet at his discretion. 

Nothing but the best for daddy’s little diamond, he would hum as he zipped up the back of your dress before an evening out. 

Then there was Max, and he was so… enrapturing. He demanded attention - he demanded that you give him everything, and hell, you wanted to. Every time you gave him all you could, giving into his wishes and demands, he’d give you an award winning smile. He would pat your cheek, or kiss your knuckles, or even fuck you with his tongue when you were good enough - it was your drug. You would give all of your money, all of your soul for his consistent affection and adoration. 

Maybe that made you a fool, or a naive child, but it was Maxwell Lord. He promised to grant your wish, right?

“When you fuck me, I… I want you to pretend like you like me,” you said. 

Lord tilted his head, a smile you had not seen before crawling onto his lips. He blinked a few times before he opened his mouth, but the only thing he could form was a croaky laugh. 

“What does that mean?” He asked, and you immediately knew you were crossing into a territory he didn’t like. The ire in his voice was clear enough - you had heard the end of his sentence going down, sounding more like an accusation then a question. Maxwell’s eyes sparkled with something dark and wicked, and you felt your heart sink. 

“I meant nothing,” you mumbled. 

“No,” he growled. Lord watched you flinched - that… that had sounded harsh, even to his own ears. He tried to give you another smile, tried to conjure up something soft and reassuring, but his pride was beginning to sting. You were insinuating something _nasty_ about him, and Maxwell would not let you of all people hide from him. “Explain.”

You stole a breath as you tried in vain to think of an excuse, to think of any way to wiggle out of this. 

Maxwell Lord had once told you that he was an expert at telling when people were lying, and you had silently wondered if it was because he was a king of lying himself. You hadn’t ever intended to lie to him. He never gave you a reason to lie when he provided a golden truth for you every day. But now… 

He would know if you lied. It would be clear on your face if you didn’t tell him exactly what you had meant. You had almost insulted him, insulted the gifts and the status of belonging to Maxwell Lord. Was that not enough for you? To simply belong to someone - you could almost pretend that was affection, almost pretend that was being wanted. 

But if Maxwell Lord had taught you anything, it was how to be greedy. 

“I meant that… that you fuck mean,” you explained finally, “And, and sometimes I wish you would care about me like I care about you.”

He didn’t say anything in reply — simply allowed you to speak, allowed your words to settle around him as he took in your criticism. His brow furrowed up, and you felt the panic rising up in you, burning and aching like bile. 

“I’m scared you won’t want me anymore, and- and that you’ll get bored of me, and that you’ll replace me,” you blurted out. “Because, because I really love you sometimes and-”

You hadn’t meant to say that. Your eyes went wide and your mouth hung open in horror — Maxwell was sure that it had just… _fallen_ out. He watched as more tears fell onto your cheeks as your mouth closed, a tight-lipped frown capturing your lips as you waited for a reaction from Lord. 

The word rattled around in his head for a moment, a single bullet fired from your mouth, echoing around his thoughts until it punctured something Maxwell had tried to keep away, tried to keep distant. It wasn’t like he didn’t care for you - quite the opposite. There wasn’t a single thing he would do for you, not a wish he wasn’t willing to grant for his diamond. 

Love. The word made his stomach twist up — Max had done his best to not allow himself to use that word when he thought of you. He knew when he was risking too much, when a game he was making was not going to benefit him. Choosing to love someone meant chancing that they didn’t return the feelings. Maxwell was wealthy, but it had happened one too many times, and he could not afford you doing that to him.

But now, when you had been the first to bring it up, the first one to make a move in that direction-

Not now. He would allow himself to consider this later, to dissect his heart until all the valves and chambers were spread before his eyes so he could see if there was any room for love to fit in there - if he was being honest, he was scared to see what he would find if he looked inwards. Maxwell was so afraid that he could not scrape up enough love to be worthy of what you deserved, that all of your attempts to restart his immobile heart would be fruitless, but there were more pressing matters than self discovery. 

You look devastated - like a child who had broken a vase and was patiently awaiting a punishment. 

“I’m,” you breathed, “I’m so sorry, I- I…”

Your voice trailed off - you wanted to have an excuse, a fucking reason as to why you just slipped up as horribly and disastrously as you did. You just had _nothing_. There was no thought process, no cause, no motivation. All you had was a terrible want for Maxwell Lord, and it reared its head in the worst conceivable way you could have imagined. 

He was going to leave you. He was absolutely going to cast you aside for someone else, someone who didn’t have too much invested in him. Someone who wasn’t so attached. You just hoped it didn’t hurt as badly as you feared it would - you feared that nothing would be left of you that wasn’t inherently Max. You were terrified that you would be nothing without him, that you would stumble from ex to ex to drunk hookup in a manic attempt to find something that could almost, sort of, maybe be like him if you closed your eyes. 

You didn’t know it yet, but Maxwell had no intention to punish the outburst, and he had no intention to drag you along, making you fear the axe that would never fall on your neck, creating a dread in your heart that would never come to fruition. Nothing good would come of torturing you, anyways. Only more tears, only more pain for his diamond to drudge through. He liked to tease, and he certainly got a kick out of making you work for what you wanted, but hurting you was something he didn’t think he could do. 

“I’m so sorry,” you said, a sob working its way up your chest - Max saw the pain cross over your eyes, could almost feel the way your chest aches in his own tight chest. 

He shook his head. “No, no, no!” Max chirped, his nervous laugh bubbling around the air. His smile was tight - it was so entirely forced, but Max didn’t care if you could see the panic behind his actions as he quickly wiped your damp cheeks with his palms. “No need for that- no, no need to cry, my diamond.”

He took a slight step forwards, moving as close as he could, not even concerned that he was crowding your space. Max needed you to know that he was with you, that he was there. 

“Daddy’s sweet little diamond never needs to concern herself with tears, ever,” he reiterated, his head bobbing with each word he said. Lord felt his movements becoming exaggerated, the performance he gave to his clients seeping into how he talked to you. For a moment, it made him almost sick to think about the implications of not being able to stop acting like a business man, like a fucking con man, with you-

Maxwell’s touch left you as his hands clapped together. “Why don’t I pour you a drink?” He suggested. 

You sniffled, wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, and gave a silent nod, and Max retreated over to a dry bar that had been shoved into the corner. His hand hovered over his options before he finally decided on an old brandy, something from the ‘40s that had cost a very pretty penny - but this had been the one, the brandy you had in your hand when he first laid eyes on you. 

It was some gala he had thrown to impress a few investors who were still on the fence about Lord Industries and their business ventures. They were unimpressed, to say the least - on paper, the whole even had been a complete and total failure. 

But he met you, his darling little diamond. You were hilarious and charming, not to mention gorgeous in that red little number. He couldn’t woo the potential clients, but he did win you over - he would choose you over a dozen investors any day, he just hadn’t realized he had done such a poor job of letting you see that. 

Maxwell poured a thumb, and turned back to you. You still looked so pitiful that he found himself getting worked up, felt his heartstrings being tugged and jerked. He took a sip, the cool liquor burning down his throat, in a vain attempt to calm his nerves. He didn’t quite have the words that would be your cure, to calm you down and reassure you from the fears that plagued you. But, Lord supposed, he did have actions - and he had a few things up his sleeve that maybe wouldn’t sooth you, but would absolutely get your mind off of your slip-up. 

He spit in the glass before offering it to you. 

Your hands slowly wrapped around the cool glass. You watched Maxwell’s sharpen as you took a sip of the liquor, swallowing what Max gave you. What Max meant by it… it wasn’t lost on you. What you and him had was an unspoken thing, a silent promise kept sacred by both parties. 

That’s what made everything so difficult about your relationship with Maxwell Lord. You knew, already, how he felt - especially in this moment as () - this was something built on faith, on the quiet, unsaid truth. You just…

You shouldn’t complain, you knew that. Sometimes you felt guilty - 

Love. Maybe you could love him silently, love him from the sidelines of a fabulous and extravagant life that Maxwell was forging for himself. You wondered if you could actually do that, or if it would slowly eat at your bones and rip apart your insides, like you were swallowing chemicals that would dissolve your heart until you were nothing but dust. 

“Why don’t you sit on my desk,” he smiled. “I’ll get your mind off of things - does that sound good?”

You let out a sigh and nodded. It’s what you had wanted right? It’s the itch that had been creeping over your entire body as day, it’s why you were here. 

Max took the glass out of your hands and stole one last sip before setting it down. You slipped your heels off after you sat. You were breathing steadily now, the weight of your mistake slowly dissipating as he sunk into his chair, rubbing his hands along the inside of your thigh. His warm hands pushed your skirt up all the way now, pulling your underwear to the side.

Your head fell back with a sigh as Max worked in a single finger, slowly pushing into your slick cunt, twisting his digit as far inside of you as he could. He stayed still for a moment as your walls clenched around him - he removed his finger as a different thought surfaced to the front of his mind.

He leaned his head down, his breathing hot on your skin. He glanced up to look at you - your brow was furrowed up, your mouth hanging open. You couldn’t make a noise, you couldn’t fucking breath as his lips pressed to clit. Both of you stayed still for a moment as you simply watched each other, waiting for someone to move first. 

“Maxwell,” you moaned, the words spilling out of your mouth, your high-pitched need . “Please- please, I-I want your mouth-”

That wasn’t enough to convince him, you knew better. He loved hearing the way your voice twisted up with need when you begged, you were going to have to convince him to use his tongue to get you off. 

“I wish you’d- you’d use your mouth on me,” you tried again, your voice barely louder than a whisper. 

He answered by gently sucking on your clit for a moment before his tongue circled the sensitive bud. You let out a small noise, something closer to a hiss than anything resembling the moans he could normally procure from you. Max worked slowly, every movement thought out and carefully executed - you watched his brow furrow up, watched the ends of his mouth quirk down in a small frown. This was uncertainty, you realized - whether in his own abilities or if you were actually enjoying yourself, you weren’t really sure. EIther way, you knew the cure. 

A secret, one told over too many glasses of expensive wine in a dark office. One that you’ve never toyed with before, one that you’ve never been in the position to toy with. He had never prohibited you from calling him that, but you sort of assumed from the way he never brought it up again, or never specifically asked to hear it - you wondered now if you hadn’t been close enough, if he hadn’t trusted you enough. If you had to jump through enough hoops and shift into every uncomfortable position for Maxwell Lord to finally be at your mercy. 

You moaned his name again and reached out to run your fingers through his blonde hair, the locks that fell from your fingers falling over his eyes. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you purred, “You’re doing- oh, _good boy_.”

Lord froze, his timid movements grinding to a stop. His eyes were wide, his lips parting as the pet name went straight to his already throbbing cock. He nodded dumbly - he wanted to hear you say it again, wanted you to fucking scream it when you came for him. 

“Don’t stop,” you said, “Keep going, sweet boy.”

He liked that one too. Max groaned as he licked your pussy, swiping up from your dripping cunt back to your clit - that earned him a proper moan, not a breathy sigh or a garbled choke. Your cry sounded like heaven, like the deliverance from pain Lord had been chasing his entire life. Maxwell wasn’t one for any sort of god in the sky, or any sort of religious construct. He never had been one to submit to something that never gave back to him. But the noise you made when his tongue prodded at your entrance made him almost believe in something divine, in something more than himself.

Maxwell’s thumb moved in small circles and hurried patterns against your clit, doing his best to make sure every part of you was taken care of, that your pleasure was rising up to something bright and beautiful - just like his diamond deserved. 

You were in fucking heaven - your orgasm was a gentle heat, a timid fire that crept over your bones and seared your tummy, something born out of embers and unhurried starts, of taking your time and roasting ever so slowly until you were nothing, until you were the very fire that burned you so kindly. It felt delicious to enjoy Lord’s mouth like this, to indulge in him until you were pushing him away, when his tongue started to pull something cruel. 

“What now?” He pressed a kiss against your thigh, moving to nip at the skin near your hip-bone. “What else, what other wishes do you have?”

You tried to catch your breath as you pushed back the hair that had fallen onto his forehead. “I still want you to fuck me, Maxwell.”

Max moved through a haze as he stood, his hands moving to push your thighs open as far he could. He couldn’t stop looking at you, basking in your beauty, relishing in the fact that his tongue made you cry out as loudly as you did. This was a euphoria he hadn’t felt in a while, a type of ecstasy that he could become so… so _addicted_ to. He wanted to, he would do anything if you let him get used to the way he felt as he watched you part your soaked folds with two fingers just for _him_. 

Your body still felt fiery, still so close to an unmanageable heat. Shedding your shirt helped with that. The cool office air settled over your torso with a gentleness, with a calmness. Then your eyes looked up when you heard the clinking of metal - you watched him unbuckled his belt and pull down the zipper of his trousers enough to reveal the tan skin of his tummy, and a cock, already hard and blushing a dark shade, all for you. 

You reached out to touch him - your fingers gathering up and smearing the precum that had already leaked out over the tip of his head.

He leaned over you, steadying himself against the desk, and your arms snaked up quickly to pull his head down so you could steal a kiss. You whimpered as you felt the head of his cock prodding at your entrance, a shudder rippling down your spine.

“Are you alright?” Max asked as he watched your eyes squeeze shut. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Don’t take this from me now, please fuck me,” you crooned. “Please, my good boy.” 

You held onto his shoulder, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as he slowly pushed into you. He felt your walls flutter around him, moving and clenching around his cock. This is what you had wanted. You wanted Maxwell Lord to stretch you out, to fuck you open on his cock until the want and the urge was completely gone from your mind. His movements were slow and deep, the tip of his member brushing up against something catastrophic inside of you, something that made you cry out his name and a slew of pet names, all in a garbled mess.

Your orgasm was building to a crescendo, to a fucking deadly high. The sense of being his, the feeling of belonging completely to Maxwell was so overwhelming - his own groans and hisses as he felt every bump and ridge of you only pushed you more towards a devastating rapture. 

His hand moved down your body, hovering over your ribs and tummy, circling your navel, before snaking back down. You were close, he could see it in the way your hips chased after his movements, in the way your legs were shaking as they wrapped around his torso. 

You felt Lord’s thick fingers move against your clit again, and that was enough to send you over the edge.

Maxwell smiled as he watched the sobs echo from your chest, the pleasure carving you out until the only thing left inside of your chest was a scream. The way you wailed his name when you came, sharp and tight, like it was the only thing you knew how to pronounce sounded like the loveliest of hymns to man. He could listen to that every fucking second and still would want to hear it for long.

“Your turn,” you choked out, “Your turn, good boy- so fucking kind to me.”

It was Maxwell’s turn to whimper, his turn to steal a breath at how fucking sexy you sounded when you called him something so sweet. His movements were selfish, his thrusts turning cruel as he chased his own release, his own momentary escape from stress and hurt. His own bliss. 

His nails dug into your hips, making little crescents in your soft skin as his hips slammed against yours. You didn’t feel your third orgasm sneaking up on you, slowly working its way up from the ground. But you felt the sickening feeling of it suddenly approaching, the way it burned deep inside of you with a sharp pain the hurt so fucking good. 

Max whimpered again when he came - you felt the heat of his cum painting your tight walls even with your head in a post-fucked fog that clouded everything, simplifying your thoughts to a primal urge instead of a conscious string of words and drawn-out phrases. 

You felt good, and for a moment, that was the only thing you could feel. 

He was still panting when he pulled out of you, watching as his cum dripped out of your cunt. For a moment, Maxwell considered continuing. He thumbed over your clit, too sensitive to find any more pleasure in his action - you jerked in response, your hips trying to move away, but being bent over his desk left you in no position to run. 

You let out a whine, small and pitiful, and you squeezed your eyes close.

Maxwell trailed his palm down your spine, moving over each vertebrae, each small bump and dimple, each small freckle or mole, with a sort of reverence that he had never given to you. How many times had he been in this position with you, and he had never looked closely at what you actually looked like. He had never studied you, never traced your skin like this. He had never allowed himself the simple pleasure of being intimate with you. 

This was addicting - touching you with no other purpose than to feel. Max was already thinking about more, planning out ways to introduce more touching, more contact, in his daily routine. He could take your hand in his, or maybe put his hand on your lower back as he moved past you. He could pull you close to him, if he ever had a spare moment - Christ, he would steal one if he needed to. He could tuck you under his chin, wrap his arms around his precious diamond, brush his lips against yours -

“Maxwell?” You mumbled. “Are you okay?”

You were so close to him, but Max felt… distant. Max wished he was better with talking about how he felt. He wished he was better with you, at caring for you, at loving —

He exhaled through his nose.

“Never better,” he said, his mouth shifting to a cold smile, devoid of the joy he wished he could feel. “Let’s get you dressed.”


End file.
